Remus' heart slowly dropped as the minutes ticked by. A commercial break came and went on the show they were watching. His newly pregnant wife had been gone to the bathroom for far too long.

After what seemed like days, but was really only a few minutes, Remus went down the hall toward the bedroom that he shared with his beautiful wife, and knocked on their bathroom door.

Tears sprang forward as a sob answered his knock. Unlocking the door with his wand, he entered to find his wife sitting on the edge of the bath tub in her underwear, sobbing. Remus saw her discarded clothing tossed aside, blood soaked through her pants. "We were almost there. Six more days and the doctor said that we were out of the woods. We almost had her. We were almost there," She sobbed as Remus took her into his lap.

"It will happen one day love, it'll happen when it's supposed to happen," Remus tried to soothe his wife.

"Why isn't it right now?" Hermione continued to sob. "What did we do to deserve this? What?"

Remus had no answers, and neither did the healers. Remus and Hermione were both healthy, young, especially considering the age that witches and wizards could live to, and all of the tests that they had done were clear.

The healers had all been so hopeful this time. They were six days away from the twelve week mark and then the risk of loss would drop by over fifty percent. If only they could have made it six more days they would have been in the clear, and up until today the healers were confident that they would make it.

Hermione had woken that morning feeling sick to her stomach and had an odd feeling in her lower abdomen. They had spent the day curled up together on the couch, Hermione laying on her left side, drinking lots of water and staying cool. They were doing everything, every single little thing, that the healers had told them, and it still wasn't enough.

Remus sat in the bathroom floor rocking his wife as she sobbed, tears streaming down his own face. This wasn't their first loss, and it probably wouldn't be their last, but that empty feeling would never change. The pain, the hurt would always be there, and it would be just as fresh and sharp the last time, as it was the first time.

AN: This fic was born from truth, both from my own life and the life of a very sweet friend of mine. I love you Nic, and one day, it will be ok.